By Sibylla Brodzinsky, Correspondent / September 30, 2013
Cross-posted from The Christian Science Monitor
Go to Source Article
Dawn had barely arrived and already Jaime Castro had put in a long day. Mr. Castro and his horse, Lucifer, had set out from his home in a poor neighborhood of Colombia’s capital around 2 a.m. for what was to be their last ride together after years of trolling the city collecting scraps of wood, metal, and plastic for informal recycling.
Castro has worked as a recycler since he was a child. “I grew up on this thing,” he says, referring to the rickety wooden cart that served as his family’s main form of transportation and means of earning a living for the past few decades.
But on a recent chilly morning Castro and two dozen other cart drivers turned over their horses and carts as part of a city government plan to eliminate animal-pulled vehicles from Bogotá’s traffic-choked streets.
Colombia’s congress first ordered local governments to phase out workhorse carts from the streets of the country’s largest cities in 2002. But implementing the law has been slow going – until now.
“First we had to know how many people depended on this, and then we had to design a program that offered them an alternative livelihood and assured them their right to work,” says Adriana Iza, who heads the Bogotá city program, which is modeled after a similar one that in 2009 managed to clear horse-drawn carts from the streets of Medellín, Colombia’s second largest city.
Getting the horse-drawn carts off the streets serves multiple goals. “It addresses mobility problems, it aims to stop animal abuse, and [it tries] to give people more dignified work,” Ms. Iza says.
Some 2,890 “zorreros,” as the cart drivers are known, have been identified by city officials here through a series of censuses. Since the exchange program started in February, more than 1,500 people have handed over their carts and horses in return for small trucks with a capacity to haul roughly the same load as the flat carts could – about 1,500 pounds.
“It changes the life of the cart driver and it changes the lives of the horses,” says Iza.
Lucifer, Castro’s gelding, shows the marks of years of pulling a heavy cart, with untreated sores and scars. Castro has mixed feelings about turning him over: He is worried about switching to a truck because he fears it will be “more expensive to buy fuel than carrots.”
But he says his horse deserves a rest. “He’s worked all he needed to work. Now he gets to rest, which is cool,” Castro says, gazing at his horse. After the animal is led off to a battery of stalls, Castro is left holding his bridle, which he says he’ll keep as a memento.
The horses turned in as part of the program undergo full veterinary check-ups and are treated for any kind of health problem.
“Most of them arrive in bad shape,” says veterinarian Jorge Torres, noting that some show signs of poorly healed fractures. But after a week or two of treatment and rest, most gain between 45 and 65 pounds and are ready to be adopted.
Dana Zaray, 8, and her five-year-old brother, Daniel, can hardly contain their excitement as they wait to meet the horses. Their father, Samir Córdoba, is adopting three horses from the program to take to his farm about two hours outside the city. Those interested in adopting a former cart horse undergo background checks and interviews to determine their plans for the animals. The horses are not to be subjected to heavy workloads, and the new owners are expected to ensure a commitment to care.
As the three horses Mr. Córdoba is granted for adoption are led onto the truck that will take them to their new home, program veterinarians explain the animals’ special needs. One has a sore on its hind leg that will need attention and antibiotics. Another has partial face paralysis from wearing an ill-fitting bit.
“These horses had to work a lot and were treated badly,” says Dana, Córdoba’s young daughter. “But we’ll take care of them.”
:: Read full story >>
Click Here for your FREE 30 DAYS of
The Christian Science Monitor
Weekly Digital Edition